


The Truth Behind the Dim, Dim Lighting

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, More Fluff than Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:19:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6311239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal's been hiding something from Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth Behind the Dim, Dim Lighting

**Author's Note:**

> Pure ridiculous crack. I'm sorry. Sort of.

 

Every time Will reached up toward the light, Hannibal found a way to redirect his attention. Sometimes he would attack Will with kisses, or roll him over into a new position, or pin his wrists to the bed in a playful show of control. He was just about to resort to blindfolds when Will apparently decided he'd had enough.

"You can't fool me," Will said.

"Whatever do you mean?" Hannibal asked. He tried to tug Will back down on top of him, but Will batted his hands away.

"We never have sex in broad daylight," Will said, "and you refuse to allow more than a few candles-- _across the room_."

"It's romantic," Hannibal sniffed.

"Are you...are you _shy_?" Will asked. "Do you not want me to see you naked?"

"You've seen me naked a dozen times," Hannibal reminded him.

"Not when we're in bed," Will pointed out. "It's always across the room, or in the shower or whatever."

Hannibal sighed. "I suppose it can't be avoided any longer. I'll have to show you the truth. Swear you'll keep an open mind."

Will crossed his fingers over his heart in promise.

Hannibal first reached over to aim the bedside lamp towards the end of the bed, then swung his legs open wide. He tugged his balls up and out of the way, affording Will a clear view of his perineum.

"That... is a tattoo," Will started.

"Yes."

Will scooted down the bed for a better look. He squinted, and squinted some more. "That... is a tattoo," he said again, "that says BUSH ‘88."

"I am afraid so," Hannibal said.

"I had no idea you were political," Will said.

"The wins and losses in the political arena have no affect on one such as myself," Hannibal said, "but I met a terribly rude anesthesiologist in med school who had other ideas. He dosed me with something and dragged me to the nearest tattoo parlor."

He went on to explain he'd always kept the lights very low when entertaining guests in the bedroom. He'd even taken to keeping the lights low in general, so that it just began to seem normal. After a while, nobody questioned why they found themselves in such darkness that they would very nearly need a bat's echolocation to navigate their way through it.

"Do you think you can overlook it?" Hannibal asked.

Will laughed. Then he laughed some more. "I've accepted that you eat people, dear. I don't think a crotch tattoo is going to be a deal breaker." He got up to turn on the overhead lights, bathing the room in sudden and uncharacteristic brightness. "Speaking of which, what became of the anesthesiologist?"

"A lovely Cassoulet D'Artagnan," Hannibal said, "with favas instead of white beans..."

-end-


End file.
